The Great Game Continues
by Snootiegirl99
Summary: Second story in the Seducing the King series. Erik returns to warn Charles of a threat, but Charles' doubt proves the bigger enemy.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The King, Part III

Erik landed softly on the grass and took in the sloping lines of the grounds. He had almost forgotten what this place had looked like, his residence here such a short time compared to the intervening years that led to this moment. He was still intimidated by the imposing structure. Erik scowled at that reflexive reaction.

I am Erik Lehnsherr, leader of thousands of beings. I have traveled the world over and shaped the events of history in the past five years. Why should one house in upstate New York inspired such a reaction in me.

Erik knew that it wasn't the house that put the instinctive fear in him. It was what it represented. It was the memories associated with the place. It was the emotional baggage that he was still unable to check.

Charles.

Erik felt himself drawn bodily toward his counterparts' inside the mansion. Reaching up to once more check on the helmet which shielded him from the telepath, Erik wondered-not for the first time-what it was about Charles that drew Erik in. What was it that this man had that Erik could not deny himself?

Even without telepathy, Erik felt Charles. Erik's body cried out for the other man as he walked step-by-step closer to their first meeting in years. Stuttering to a stop every fifth step, Erik shook his head to clear it of the emotions that were steadily taking control of him. He didn't need to lose control or show any weakness tonight.

He wasn't worried about Charles taking advantage of any of Erik's weaknesses-it was just the opposite. Erik was fairly certain that he wouldn't want to leave this place if he allowed himself to feel everything that was currently percolating up through the colander of his mind. Every time he had tried to stop up those little entry ways through which his feelings reached his conscious mind, they had found new places to flow. It was a never-ending battle.

And one that Erik was sure to lose in the end.

His boots made little sound on the damp grass as he continued his military-like stride toward his destination. Once within the shadow of the mansion's facade, he reached up and removed his helmet, calling out with his mind.

"Charles?"

The reply was nearly instantaneous.

"Shall I come down, or do you want to come up?"

"Probably best not to discuss this within shouting distance of sleeping children."

"The library then."

Erik swiftly unlocked the back door and slipped into the soft light of the kitchen, subsequently directing his feet toward the library. During his walk, he used his power over metal to reacquaint himself with the guts of the mansion.

There. He could feel new rooms below the main building, added on to the bomb shelters from the past. But these newer spaces were much stronger, more fortified than the previous ones. Erik was impressed with Charles' initiative, for all of his public pandering to peaceful co-existence. Dr. McCoy had obviously been hard at work below as well as above the surface of this school.

Erik also sensed the approach of the elevator-also newly installed since his last visit-and Charles' wheelchair within it. Politely, he stopped in the hallway to await the proprietor of the premises. The whoosh of the doors brought even more light into the hallway, illuminating Charles' form in his seated position.

Erik felt a blow to his chest. He had missed seeing this man. More than he had wanted to know. And all of those years of longing were coalescing in a very large lump in his throat.

As Charles rolled toward the taller man, a smile hovered about the corners of his mouth. He glided to a stop at Erik's feet and gazed up at him, leaning onto his right arm.

"Take your time, Erik. I'm sure whatever you came to say will wait until you are able to swallow again," Charles said with a glint in his eyes.

Erik started to scowl and deny the truth of the situation, but Charles couldn't help chuckling at him. Then he leaned forward and grasped the standing man's clothing. His upper body strength was something to be reckoned with, and Erik could do nothing short of shedding his clothing to avoid being pulled down into Charles' face.

Charles searched Erik's face minutely for a breathless thirty seconds. Then he cupped the taller man's neck and initiated the first kiss they had shared in half a decade. Erik was stiff for the first moment but melted into the contact so much that he knees hit the floor at Charles' feet. Then Erik's hands came up to smooth over Charles' face-and facial hair-in a petting motion.

Their kiss became increasingly heated as their roaming hands explored the changes that five years had wrought on each others' bodies. Erik almost pulled Charles from his chair in his excitement and desperation. Charles steadied himself with one hand on the chair, separating their mouths and leaning their foreheads together.

"Charles," Erik said, breathless from more than just their kissing.

"Erik, love," Charles responded. "How I have missed you."

"No less than I you," Erik answered. His hands continued to move across Charles' limbs in an attempt to convince himself that the man before him was real.

After another moment, Charles had to chuckle again. "It's all right," he assured Erik. "I am real. I am here."

Characteristically, Erik scowled at being laughed at. But then he did find a smile for his lips. Closing his eyes tightly, he breathed in the scent of Charles in a quiet moment that he tucked away for all of the lonely nights of his life to come.

"Dare I hope that you can stay longer than a quarter hour?" Charles asked.

Erik hesitated a moment before answering.

"Do you want me to stay?" Erik asked back as his eyes popped open again.

Charles looked deeply into those cold, blue eyes and breathed, "Oh, yes."

Erik clasped both of Charles' hands in his and pronounced, "We can talk later." To which Charles nodded, kissed Erik once more quickly, and backed his chair up to turn around and re-enter the elevator. Erik walked as close to Charles as he could during this short trip.

They looked not outward from the door of the elevator but into each other's eyes, wondering how they would ever make the trip up one floor before needing to touch each other again.

As soon as the door to Charles' room was closed and locked behind them, Erik did what he had been fantasizing about for a very long time. He hooked his arm under Charles' bend knees and whisked the man out of his wheelchair, walked toward the bed in the center of the room, all the while kissing, biting, and licking Charles' lips, jawline, and neck. After settling his precious cargo gently into the center of the bed, Erik settled down next to Charles so that their bodies touched from shoulder to toes.

"I have wanted to know for so long . . ." Erik began.

"No," Charles replied to the unspoken, but forcefully thought, question. "No, I am not impotent. Yes, I can achieve an erection and ejaculation. Anything else you want to know?"

Erik was relieved to see the amusement on Charles' face. He didn't know how Charles would react to those inquiries. They were legitimate after all, given their past relationship and present intentions.

"Do we need a safe word?" Erik asked, sultry and teasing.

Charles laughed out loud.

"Erik. You never cease to amaze me," Charles said with great affection.

Erik grinned back at Charles in a way he hadn't in too many years. He just couldn't with anyone but Charles. This man who could read his mind made him feel more comfortable than the most ignorant, bumbling idiot he had ever met. Idiots were easy to figure out. Idiots were easy to predict and outsmart. Charles was none of those things. He could read Erik almost before Erik himself knew a thought was forming. And it still didn't bother him.

_Perhaps it should_, he whispered to himself.

Charles reached up to run his hands around Erik's face, tracing his strong features. His softened look mirrored his relaxed posture. To try to induce more relaxation out of Erik, Charles rubbed a finger at the creases in his brow.

"You know I would never intentionally hurt you. I love you too much," Charles responded to Erik's unspoken doubt. "Despite everything."

Instead of qualifying the declaration of love, his reference to their tumultuous history only served to enhance the force of the emotions. Both men had unintentionally hurt each other numerous times-physically and emotionally. But neither possessed the wherewithal to inflict intentional suffering.

"Yes," Erik agreed. "I do trust you, Charles." He leant down and claimed another kiss to seal the promise they shared.

Charles knew that the only person in the world who would ever induce him to turn on his principles was the man currently cradling Charles on his own bed. He had entertained the notion, through the years, of contacting Erik and asking him to run away with him. They could disappear from their own lives and build a new one together. Forget all the principles, the causes, the brotherhoods, everything. Not even Raven could have convinced Charles to turn his back on the world.

Nothing but Charles could have ever convinced Erik to turn his back on other mutants.

"Why have we not done this before?" Charles inquired.

"Do you have amnesia as well?" Erik teased.

"I meant since Cuba," he clarified.

Erik's expression sagged. Immediately, Charles regretted the impulse to ask.

"I-" Erik stopped and collected his thoughts. "I wasn't sure you-" He stopped again.

"Weren't sure I what?" Charles prompted.

Erik sighed. "Forgave me? Cared? Loved me anymore?" he offered. Erik looked like a child who had lost his favorite toy.

"Oh, Erik," Charles said. "My heart is big enough to love you for all that you are and all that you have chosen. When last we met, I was mired in my own self-hatred and anger. It was only directed at you that evening. Not since, actually."

Erik was shocked. He had assumed the worst after their last parting. Which meant that the progression of events this evening were vastly more positive than he had anticipated. Not willing to burst such a beautiful fantasy bubble, he had gone along with anything Charles had suggested as a matter of course.

Knowing now that he didn't have to hold back from being himself, especially not in bed, Erik gave a low, guttural growl and rolled on top of Charles, his long legs snugging up on the outside of Charles' shorter ones.

"What can I do to you, Charles," he asked between long, wet kisses to Charles' alabaster skin. He would have to wear turtlenecks for a week after this.

His voice already undone, Charles grasped for a response, "Any-anything. I haven't had anyone since you left."

That arrested Erik's movements again. He couldn't believe that! Five years?

"Why not?" Erik demanded, more forcefully than was necessary.

Charles couldn't help giggling at his lover's incredulity. "Perhaps I was saving myself?"

This response induced a genuine smile from Erik as well.

"Saving yourself, huh?" he rejoined. Then he resumed his exploration and reacquaintance with Charles' skin and smell. He was intoxicating to Erik.

Charles sighed only fractionally.

"Well, I've been busy, and there hasn't been any time to cultivate any new personal relationships. Plus, being in the wheelchair makes casual encounters much more cumbersome," he explained.

Between kisses, Erik said, "I would think -kiss- that having a convenient seat -kiss- would make casual encounters -kiss- all that easier. Just -kiss- climb on board -kiss- so to speak."

Erik smiled slyly up at Charles, resulting in Charles snorting in response.

"I haven't laughed this much in a long time," Charles informed Erik, to which Erik stopped his kissing and sat up with his hands on his hips in a gesture of exasperation.

"Are you going to continue to go on and on about regrets and other dreary things, or are we going to have some fun and exhaust each other?" he asked only a little bit petulantly.

Charles bit his lower lip and whispered, "Exhaustion please."

"Good," Erik grunted. "Now, do shut up, Charles."

And to make good on all his promises and threats, Erik leaned in and kissed Charles soundly and deeply, effectively ending the conversation part of the evening.


	2. Chapter 2

Erik wasn't sure how close any students' rooms were situated in relation to Charles' bedroom, but he also didn't really care.

Teenagers probably know more about sex than we do, he thought to himself as he made his way back down to Charles' warmth. Shimmying down the telepath's body and parting Charles shirt buttons as he went, Erik cataloged any and everything that seemed different on Charles' trunk.

Not too much really popped out at him. He snorted at his own mental pun.

'What?" Charles asked innocently.

"Nothing," Erik muttered and resumed kissing and nuzzling. "Just relax," he commanded.

Charles' answering sigh was all the confirmation Erik needed.

With no particular plan in mind, Erik just followed his instincts and the soft sounds emanating from above his head and under his lips. The soft whimpers vibrated down Charles' torso like a carnal telegraph line straight to Erik's cock.

Only with Charles had it ever been as much about giving pleasure as getting it-perhaps even more about giving. Erik cared about Charles in so many more ways than any other living creature, even himself. Especially himself.

He briefly thought about his age-old argument about the pain he causes Charles by being with him weighted against the pain he causes by being away. It was a moot point now what with their separate lives humming along so well. Perhaps this contact could become more regular though . . .

Charles began carding his hands through Erik's hair to quiet his mind and refocus him on the moment. He could hear Erik's thoughts without even trying. But the effort it would take to filter them out was more than Charles wanted to exert in his current state. He resorted to old habits picked up from a time when Erik's mind was much wilder than its current state.

Charles thought longingly about those brief weeks on the road prior to the Cuban Missile Crisis. The constant companionship, the privacy of travel, and the thrill of new discoveries would never again be repeated in either of their lives. To stifle a despondent sigh, Charles mentally folded up those memories and tucked them away to be brought out on a lonely night when he didn't have Erik in the flesh and blood currently attending to his body.

A little yelp escaped his lips when he realized that he had missed Erik undoing his pants and pulling him free of his underwear. The warmth of Erik's tongue brought him back to his senses immediately.

"Mmmm," Erik hummed in appreciation. He nibbled at the end of Charles' foreskin, slipping his tongue in under the edges to taste the pre-ejaculate already leaking. One thing that the two of them had always enjoyed was the disparate state of their penises. Circumcised as an infant as Jewish boys were, Erik had focussed on the piece of skin that he no longer possessed.

Charles had enjoyed Erik's explorations immensely.

Women had never been so fascinated by something that they didn't attribute to their own pleasure during the sex act. Some had remarked on it before its retraction. Others had pointedly ignored anything about his anatomy.

But Erik.

Erik was enthralled by the idea that Charles had a different type of sensitivity than his own. He asked endless questions of Charles concerning the pressure, speed, temperature, friction, and moisture associated with the foreskin. Charles found it not only good fun but also quite endearing. He almost never got to see Erik expressing such a naked enthusiasm for something that didn't directly impact mutant rights.

After all this time apart, his desire to explore had not diminished one bit.

Charles let out a gasp at the renewed sensations. He was disinclined to engage in masturbation often, a product of his lothario days. And then he was so busy with his school that he was often found slumped over in his chair in the library as often as he actually dragged himself off to bed.

He had worried about his libido and the paralysis. But Erik, god love him, was showing Charles what had been missing from the past few years. A partner. A lover. Erik.

"Erik," Charles whispered. "So good."

By this point, Erik had taken most of Charles into his mouth and hollowed his cheeks in an attempt to separate Charles' skin from his body. Or at least Charles vaguely thought it felt like that.

"Oh! Oh!" Charles tried to keep his exclamations quiet, but it was becoming distressingly difficult. Erik was so talented with his tongue.

Pulling off before the grand finale, Erik's mouth made a small popping sound. He smiled a predatory smile up at Charles. Charles' lopsided smile indicated just how far gone he was already.

"It's been too long, Charles," Erik admonished him. "You're ready to pop, and I've barely begun."

They shared a softer smile, Charles petting Erik's hands where they lay next to Charles' hips on the bed. He noted that Erik's arms were still very wiry and strong. Whether that was a natural state or Erik honed them, Charles wasn't entirely sure. He just knew that if he ever found himself attracted to a stranger these days, he was more likely than not built just like Erik.

Charles had apparently found his 'type.'

Hoisting himself up onto his knees where he had settled between Charles' legs, Erik leaned up to kiss the supine man.

"Let's work for a slow burn, shall we?" he asked.

Charles eyes shone up toward where Erik had pulled back to hang his head over Charles.

"That would be lovely," Charles replied.

Erik ducked back in to start nibbling on Charles' neck, allowing Charles access to him as well. When he was farther down on the bed, it had become almost awkwardly obvious that Charles' limited mobility would change their lovemaking in more than one way. Charles had used to love wrapping his legs around Erik as he fellated the telepath.

Now, with Erik's body hovering overtop, Charles could reach to undress Erik as well. He slid his hands underneath Erik's shirt and rucked it up his back, cataloging any new scars on his way. Erik grunted when Charles hit a particularly new one. Charles frowned, but Erik's slight head shake left him placated for the moment. He continued to pull the fabric up and over Erik's head, casting it aside the moment it was free.

Next, he dove for Erik's belt, snaking it out of the loops quickly. Then the belt joined the shirt on the floor. Sliding a hand into Erik's trousers, Charles made a momentous discovery.

Erik wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Were you planning something for this evening, then?" Charles couldn't help but tease.

"If I had been planning, I would have brought a change of clothes," Erik responded. "So let's get these off to prevent any accidents."

Charles would have sworn he saw a little bit of a blush creep up the side of Erik's neck.

Erik finished his own undressing and returned to pull Charles' pants down and off as well. When he returned to his position, he could now feel the heat radiating off of Charles' body. So strange that the signals to the muscles of Charles' legs were cut off but the blood continued to pump and heat his extremities.

Erik thought about their first night together. How he had given Charles a foot rub. No more itchy feet now, he thought. Above him, Charles laughed. He too was thrust back into that memory of a distant night in a nameless hotel. How the sexual tension between them had sparked and finally caught fire.

How much he had enjoyed the foot rub. He could still 'feel' the massage in his limbs with all of the other phantom sensations.

Erik planted two reverent kisses, one each, on Charles' thighs. Then he rubbed the length from his knees to his hips.

"Where do you start to feel?" he asked.

"Right there," Charles stated and reached down to stop Erik's hands. It was the cusp of Charles' hips, no longer really his thighs. Erik squeezed and memorized this position. He would use this information as best he could.

Leaning up to whisper in Charles' left ear, Erik asked, "Top or bottom?"

Charles whispered back, "You choose."

So Erik chose.

He spit in his hand to add to the drying saliva already deposited on Charles' member. Stroking several times to assure himself of the strength of the erection, Erik straddled Charles and began to impale himself.

Charles' eyes were a big as saucers and his pupils as dark as space. His hands rested on Erik's thighs as the taller man moved down incrementally. _Fuck, Erik was tight_, Charles thought. _Does that mean-?_

The moan that Erik let loose rattled the old windows in their frames. Charles watched his red skin disappear behind Erik's testicles, already pulled up tightly to his body. Slow burn indeed, he thought. Erik was fighting to relax just a little more to ease his initial discomfort. But he refused to stop moving down.

Charles moved his right hand to card through Erik's pubic hair, an act that the other man had once said he found very intimate and comforting. When Charles had asked him how that gesture measured up against others in intimacy, Erik had explained that he had never had true intimacy with anyone before Charles.

To stay with someone long enough after the act, to repeat the act so many times with one partner, and then spend time talking, laughing, and petting each other in bed-that was true intimacy. Having a comfort level with nudity and allowing someone to notice things on his body that even he, Erik, had not noticed or known was an act of surrender that Erik had never thought himself capable of. Until Charles.

Once again, Charles had changed the game.

While Charles continued to caress Erik with both eyes and hands, the upright man finally seated himself fully. Pausing to lean forward and search for a kiss, he was rewarded with Charles thrusting up into him using his abdominal muscles.

Erik's eyes were the ones wide open now. He hadn't considered that Charles could use his upper body strength for this. But he was very pleasantly surprised. He continued to kiss his lover and hover on his knees, allowing Charles his freedom of movement.

After a few minutes, Charles was panting more heavily. Erik knew that it was a combination of arousal and effort. He reached down and ran his hands over the rippling muscles on Charles and then took over the thrusting.

He kept the movement slow but long, building their passion slowly. They had all night as far as time went, but he didn't know how long Charles' stamina would hold out. Erik would do most of the work from here to make sure Charles got maximum pleasure out of minimum effort.

"All right?" Erik asked him in a low voice.

"Mmmm, yes," Charles murmured. He was alternately closing, clenching, and opening his eyes. "So overwhelming. So much."

Erik smiled reassuringly.

Charles finally surfaced for a lucid moment, and gestured toward the bedside table. "There's lotion," he exhaled.

Grateful for the lubricating assistance, Erik leaned forward to retrieve it. Slicking Charles up more, Erik was able to pick up his pace a bit and with intention. His hands traversed the length of Charles' torso up and down before settling around his own cock. Adding a little lotion to this combination as well, he began a sedate pace of pulling and sliding.

Charles batted his hands away and took over.

"I want this is my mouth too, you know," he told Erik. "I always loved the way you tasted."

Another moan escaped Erik and he sped up his movements which also served to speed up the movement on his own cock. Erik leaned forward on one arm and planted his hand next to Charles' head. Using his own abdominals now, he curled his hips forward and back quicker and quicker.

His lips latched onto Charles' and pulled hard. This kiss was primal. It spoke of denied desire. It told stories of star-crossed lovers the likes of which Shakespeare had never even dreamt. Teenagers in lust had nothing on two mutants with so much history between them, so much anger and betrayal, love and support. This kiss was a saga in movement.

Charles' climax was fast approaching now. Minutes had been spent divided between feeling Erik clenching him and clenching Erik. He was no longer a young man, but he wasn't in his dotage yet either. He dug his fingernails into Erik's bare arm and managed a back arch, throwing his neck open for Erik.

Erik dove for the delicate flesh and suckled as he continued his hip-rocking. This attention to his sensitive neck was the final straw for Charles. As he shuddered, Erik held him. Luckily, Charles had let go of Erik's cock to dig his fingers into both of Erik's triceps. He would leave marks.

Those marks would match the ones that Erik left on Charles' neck.

After Charles sank back into his bed, sated in a way he had not known since before Cuba, Erik finished himself with four or five more quick strokes. He watched the ropes of semen paint Charles' chest. He had been one to talk to Charles about pent up sexual tension. He was shooting like a younger man himself.

Catching his weight on both arms now, Erik eased himself up and Charles out of his body, sliding easily with the extra contribution. He resumed his position next to Charles, stretched out as before, with his head propped up on his bent arm. They both breathed in silence for a few blissful moments. Sleep tugged at the edges of their consciousnesses.

Charles was the first to break the spell.

"This wasn't why you came, was it?"

"Well, it wasn't and it was."

Charles wrinkled up his brow.

Erik sighed, all attempts at levity and punning put aside again. They had serious things to speak of. And apparently, Charles wasn't willing to wait a while and separate their just completed reunion from the less affirming reasons Erik had approached Charles in the first place.

"You're in danger, Charles," he intoned.


	3. Chapter 3

"In danger?" Charles asked, obviously amused at the idea. It had been years since anything had truly surprised Charles-namely, since a certain German man had left his life. His telepathic power had only grown with time and practice. Erik's helmet was the one artificial blocking mechanism Charles had encountered.

The only natural blocking had occurred sporadically as more mutants with telepathic powers of different degrees came within Charles' range. When Charles encountered these burgeoning minds, he was very careful to keep a respectful distance in terms of his mind. But he also made it his responsibility to make physical contact and let the other telepath know he or she was not losing his or her mind.

As Charles had feared when his powers had first manifested.

The reassurance he had been able to provide to these other mutants was very personally satisfying to Charles. It was one more way that he was trying to accomplish goals similar to Erik's through different, and gentler, means.

In the face of Charles' doubt and mirth, Erik scowled. "This isn't funny, Charles," he growled. "Your naiveté will not protect you forever, you know."

Charles wrapped one arm through Erik's arm and around his neck. His other hand smoothed down Erik's strong arm. Squeezing him reassuringly, Charles said quietly, "I am sorry if I have upset you. I do appreciate your concern."

Erik closed his eyes and willed his temper back under his control. He slung his top arm across Charles' chest to return the embrace. They settled into silence for another moment, each lost in his own thoughts.

Placing a soft kiss on Erik's forehead, Charles entreated, "Tell me what you know."

Sighing, Erik held up a finger for a moment's pause. He then proceeded to prop both Charles and himself up into sitting positions against the headboard the better for conversation.

"We've been monitoring the movements of a new group inside the CIA," Erik began. "They've been working with several of the more shady private sector organizations who are housing cutting-edge genetics research."

"What makes them so shady?" Charles asked, his brow furrowed.

"Using live subjects, even higher order primates, and questionable methodologies. Rushing therapies through the FDA. Missing paper trails behind the therapies about how they were developed," Erik supplied.

"What do you suspect, Erik?"

"You know what I suspect. You know what is most likely going on," Erik insisted.

"How does this put me specifically in danger?" Charles asked, dreading the answer but needing to know.

"Your school's name has been mentioned in several memos within this CIA group," Erik said.

Charles inhaled strongly, demonstrating frustration more than fear. But he was worried by this. He had hoped to keep a low enough profile to escape government monitoring for at least a few more years. Get a few of his older students more established in control of their powers before needing a stronger defense than camouflage.

"What did the communications say about the school?" he asked.

Erik looked closely at his lover. He could tell now that the school was involved, Charles would be more likely to take his warnings seriously. But he still needed to tread lightly.

"Mostly they mentioned things like your energy usage, food budget, and disparate recruiting techniques," Erik said, puzzled by the connections.

Charles held in his chuckle out of respect for Erik's concern. "So, they are concerned that we use a lot of electricity, buy a lot of food, and accept students from around the world regardless of cost?" he summed up.

"Yes," Erik agreed, suspicious about where Charles was headed.

Charles leaned into Erik's body and slapped a hand onto a bony knee cap. "Don't worry, my friend. That's to be expected. We built the extra lab and research space below the mansion, including a new cerebro. That take some extra lighting," Charles explained with a smile. Erik wasn't amused.

"And some of the students have, um, particular dietary restrictions. So we do order a slightly larger volume of both domestic and exotic foods. But that can be explained as much with our international student population as our mutant population. And as for recruiting from all over the planet, well. It seems that mutation is not discriminatory based on imaginary political lines on maps. It's too bad that other characteristics, like kindness, aren't as liberal."

Charles seemed satisfied that these characteristics of the school would be readily explainable and didn't necessarily constitute danger per se. He hazarded a grin at Erik and was rewarded with another scowl.

"What?"

"This is the naiveté I was talking about. Perhaps these things are explainable to someone like an educational review board, but this is a group within the CIA who are specifically working with corporations performing experiments on mutants!" Erik's voice had grown in volume and force as he spoke. He pulled physically away from Charles and stood with his hands on his hips.

The intimidating figure he was trying to cut was undermined slightly by his naked and debauched state.

Charles held out a conciliatory hand. "Please come back to bed," he requested softly.

Erik resisted for a few more seconds while breathing heavily and not meeting Charles' eyes. Finally, he relaxed minutely, and returned to his former position, although he snuggled in tighter to Charles and farther down enough to pillow his head on the shorter man's shoulder.

"I'm sorry again," Charles soothed. He ran a hand through Erik's hair and placed small kisses on the man's temple. "I will talk to my contacts at the agency. I will not let this pass if it means that the children will be threatened."

Erik grumped a response that seemed to indicate he was placated for the moment. Inhaling deeply, he said, "It's so hard. Caring. A big part of me doesn't want to care about you, Charles. I know that's disappointing."

Charles placed a forefinger underneath Erik's chin and tilted his head up so that the telepath could look him straight in the eyes. "You do not disappoint me. But you must learn to accept that caring is an integral part of who you are. You care about many more than just me."

Erik thought about Charles' words for a moment.

Charles continued, "If you didn't care, you would stay here with me and live a life of passionate debauchery. You wouldn't put yourself on the line day after day for other mutants you never met and probably wouldn't even like."

Erik snorted laughter at the truth of that statement. He might care a lot, but he definitely liked less.

"So stop maligning the man I love and what I love about him," Charles finished and gave Erik a playful slap to the cheek.

Erik's hand quickly captured the offending appendage on his face and turned to kiss Charles' palm.

"All right," he agreed grudgingly. "But you have to stop putting the man I love into unnecessary danger _by refusing to see the bad in people_." Erik punctuated his statement with pokes of his long, bony finger to the middle of Charles' chest.

A sly smile spread across Charles' face, and he blinked his eyelashes coquettishly. "I like it when you order me around," he said soberly.

"Well, I'd like it more if you'd listen to me once in a while," Erik returned and lifted himself to claim another kiss. He couldn't resist pressing himself against Charles again, knowing that their time together was always short.

"I'll promise to listen to you when you order me around in bed," Charles teased. He ran his hands through the soft hairs on Erik's chest.

Erik smiled a genuine smile. "It's a start," he countered.


	4. Chapter 4

_Why do they wear such short skirts?_ Raven wondered as she walked through the bright office space, heels clicking on the tiles. I can barely take a full step in this.

Watching her posture and keeping a pleasant smile on her face, Raven cast her eyes about her, mentally cataloging the space, the people, and the atmosphere. She sensed that today was a relatively relaxed day here at the Pentagon. No major threats detected. No new enemies to track. At least not any they want to publicly acknowledge.

If they only knew, she thought to herself and could not keep from a quick little smirk. But it disappeared as quickly as it arose. _Charles_, she thought. _Keep focussed on the objective for Charles._

Raven was currently posing as the assistant to the head of the CIA's new Domestic Watch group, who was stalking through the halls in front of her. This was how she had had access to the memos mentioning the Xavier School for Gifted Children which she had then passed on to Erik.

The squat man had already made several passes at Raven, which she had laughingly demurred to entertain even as she seethed inside about his audacity and arrogance. Men like him were a big part of what was wrong with the world, in her opinion. He thought he had the right to treat her as if she was a vacuous vessel with no brain, no heart, and no will of her own. She would show him.

Recalling her current location, she resumed her flirty gait and tossed her long hair back over her shoulder as she peered through the glasses perched on her nose that didn't actually exist beyond her body. She kept pace with her boss through the massive halls of the Pentagon on their way to a meeting with the Undersecretary of Something.

Raven thought to herself that she should probably know who they were meeting with since she had actually made the appointment three weeks ago. But her boss seemed to know where he was going. She was just supposed to heel and make him look good by looking good.

Raven stopped her eye-role mid-way through and plastered her best fake smile on her face, clutching her notebook in one hand and her little handbag over the other arm. The man in front of her slowed in front of one of many closed wooden doors. They all looked the same to Raven. She guessed that numbering conference rooms would give the enemy too much information should they ever invade. Suppressing yet another eye-roll, she quickly counted doors from the nearest landmark.

Raven would remember the location of this room. She was good at remembering details.

The door swung open, and she immediately ascertained that she would be the only woman in this meeting. Three uniformed men and one more civilian rose to greet her boss.

"Colonel," he greeted with a curt handshake.

"Mr. Morrison," the Colonel answered. Then he turned to his colleagues and introduced them one-by-one.

The Colonel was flanked by a Major who was his assistant and another Colonel who he had specifically requested attend this meeting. The Major didn't waste any time starting to peruse Raven. She kept still and followed her boss with her eyes as if she didn't notice the inappropriate stare.

"Major Michaels, nice to meet you," Morrison continued. "And Colonel Fulsom. I was hoping you would join us. Colonel Homes has mentioned you in our previous meetings." Colonel Fulsom grunted while he shook Morrison's hand.

Colonel Homes finished the introductions with the civilian. "This is Bolivar Trask. He is one of our top weapons contractors. We thought he might be interested in what you have to say as well, Morrison."

The last two men shook hands, and Morrison waved in Raven's general direction. "My assistant, Tammy," he said. No one shook her hand or looked at her as anything other than a decoration for the stark room.

The men seated themselves at the main table. 'Tammy' took a seat in the corner where a chair already resided undoubtedly for other assistants who had attended meetings such as this. She opened her notebook and readied her pen to take notes from the meeting. It was handy to actually do what she wanted to do as part of her cover. She wanted the information in writing to pass on to Erik.

"Gentlemen," Morrison began. "Thank you for taking this meeting. I'll not waste your time with preamble. I believe there is a dangerous new threat to the security of our great homeland. We will be attacked from within."

He let his words sink in to see the reaction they provoked. Unfortunately for him, this crowd were veterans of wars and similar statements. They were unruffled.

Clearing his throat, Morrison began again. "My group has been commissioned to investigate reports of supra-human incidents and behaviors especially here in the U.S. but as much of the rest of the world as possible. It's an enormous task for such a small group. However, we are making some headway with the help of contractors, such as yourself Mr. Trask."

Trask nodded once in acknowledgement.

Morrison hefted his briefcase onto the table, and popped it open. He extracted sheafs of paper and sorted them out to the other four men. The Pentagon personnel immediately started looking through them. The contractor sat patiently.

Once he had what he wanted, Morrison returned the case to its station on the floor, and folded his hands in front of him.

"What you see here are the reports from several companies performing genetic research. They are looking into our very cells to see how a human being is built. And we are learning some very interesting-some very threatening-things as well." Morrison paused again for affect.

Raven was so very tired of his theatrics. Cut to the chase, you idiot, she thought.

Apparently, the military men were thinking the same thing as they started to shift in their chairs and clear their throats in impatient gestures. Morrison took the hint.

He clarified, finally, "We are seeing a new pattern of mutation emerging in the genetic code of human beings. Something more than birth defects and variation due to gender or racial origins. Some of our top people are beginning to voice concerns that-" Morrison stopped to clear his own throat this time. He was feeling a little intimidated.

Colonel Homes raised a questioning eyebrow to prompt Morrison. "Yes," he said.

"There might be a new species emerging," Morrison concluded with finality. He had dropped his bomb. Now he waited to see what would happen.

Not much did for at least thirty seconds.

Trask, surprisingly, was the one to break the silence next. He hadn't spoken yet.

"Yes, we have independently verified the same occurrences," he said. Morrison's eyebrows shot into his hairline with surprise.

"I wasn't aware anyone else-" he began.

Colonel Homes interrupted him, "No, and you shouldn't have been. It was on a need-to-know basis. But now you can coordinate your efforts with Mr. Trask." The Colonel gestured to the civilian contractor as he continued to peruse the paperwork in front of him.

"This place," he said suddenly.

All eyes went to the piece of paper he was pointing to as if drawn with magnets. Raven was barely able to not make a gasping sound at the grainy photo of her childhood home.

"A school?" Morrison asked, his confusion obvious.

"Why is it in this file, then?" the Colonel continued his examination.

Trask answered. "They have been under surveillance for some time. We will take care of that situation, Colonel." His assurance in a room filled with high-ranking military men was formidable and impressive, even to Raven.

The Colonel was satisfied. He collated the paperwork and sent it down the table and into Trask's waiting hands. Trask efficiently placed the paperwork into his own briefcase at his feet.

Morrison looked like he had just been pushed down by a bully on the playground. "But?" he sputtered.

Homes turned his head back to look at Morrison directly again. "From now on, you will work exclusively with Mr. Trask and his organization, is that clear, Mr. Morrison?" he ordered.

Morrison swallowed. "Yes, sir."

Homes looked at his fellow officers who both nodded at him. "Thank you, gentlemen," he dismissed them all, rising up to leave.

Morrison, Raven, and Trask all stayed seated until the door closed. Morrison was in shock at what just happened. Raven took her cues from him. Trask was in complete control of Morrison.

Trask looked at him through lowered eyelashes. "Who else has been privy to this information, Mr. Morrison," he asked as his eyes flitted to Raven sitting primly and quietly in the background.

Morrison tried very hard not to flinch. "Just myself, my team of six, and some key players at the contracting facilities. However, we took the precaution of keeping them working on disconnected parts of the research so that no one had the whole picture."

Trask actually smiled. "Good. That's good," he said condescendingly. His smile sent a shiver down Raven's spine.

Morrison shifted in his seat and started to sweat profusely.

Trask stood abruptly and fastened the buttons on his jacket. "Your team now works for me. I want to meet with each of them individually, starting with her"-he pointed at Raven who smiled tightly to appear as harmless as possible-"as soon as possible." With that, he grabbed his suitcase and exited the room.

Morrison exhaled and swung around to look Raven in the eyes. She read the threat there. She was forbidden to divulge his humiliation to anyone. Or else. She lowered her eyes first and then her chin to stare at the notebook in her lap on which she had dutifully been taking notes.

Morrison stumbled up from the table and snatched the notebook from her hands. He stowed in his own briefcase and exited behind Trask, not looking back to see if she was following him.

Raven took a moment to gloat. _No matter how big and bad you think you are, there's always someone bigger and badder,_ she thought.

Then she followed him out the door and down the corridor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: A shorter chapter, but I wanted to have Erik and Charles deal with the fact that they hadn't spoken in five years but jumped into bed as quickly as they did. Impetuous boys.**

"Why did you stay away so long?" Charles asked Erik the next morning, before the sun had actually made an appearance. They had dozed off and on all night, enjoying the quiet and each other.

Erik looked at him quizzically.

"I'm surprised you have to ask," he replied.

When Charles didn't seem to understand his enigmatic response, Erik continued.

"The last time we spoke, here in your kitchen and in the study, you were not happy with me. My methods. My goals. I thought you'd be-I mean, that you'd prefer." Erik ended his non-sentence with a vague motion that seemed to sever imaginary ties between them.

"You thought wrong," Charles said without any malice. His smile faltered and he sighed. "I was in a dark place then. I admit it. I wasn't at my best. But I wish I had been able to tell you how much it meant to me to be with you. Just to look into your eyes and hear your voice. I wanted you _here_," Charles' voice broke on the last word. He knew that Erik had never been comfortable in Charles' mansion. "Or," he amended, "At least with me somehow."

Erik reached under the covers for Charles' hand as they lay facing each other on separate pillows. He squeezed it with affection and tried to think of something that would justify five years' absence more than just a false idea of Charles' wishes. Erik knew Charles well enough to realize that had Erik made more gestures Charles would have accepted them. He was a fountain of forgiveness and understanding.

It was one of things about Charles that made him so lovable. It was also one of the things that truly frustrated Erik about him. Even as he benefited from the characteristic himself.

"I'm sorry," Erik whispered, afraid the words would break one of them. Or both.

Charles offered a watery-eyed smile. Erik kissed his forehead and each eye to try to stem the tide of emotion.

Charles placed his other hand on Erik's chest and pushed gently. Erik took the hint and leaned back to meet Charles' eyes once again.

"When was the last time you apologized for anything you have done?" Charles asked him, his eyes sparkling from more than just the extra moisture.

Erik pulled a face. "Apologies for actions are different from apologies for thoughts. I still think everything I have done was right, given the circumstances and information available at the time. Sometimes things go wrong in execution-"

Charles cut him off with a snort.

"Yes, you are always conveniently able to rationalize your failures. I have followed you through the years. I can read an article in the newspaper and know when it is you or your group who is behind it," Charles tells him as he toys with a piece of Erik's hair that has flopped over his forehead.

"Indeed? Enlighten me, then," Erik challenged. He settled onto his balled fist, propping his head up.

Charles could feel the strange mix of aggression and amusement that was Erik Lehnsherr. He closed his eyes and cast about for a specific memory.

"Oh, yes," he said, "I remember four months ago. A report out of Vietnam. American soldiers were swearing they had seen strange things in the jungle. Strange activity from the enemy. And then several years ago, a report of local election results in Maryland being called into question. A vast number which was also strange."

Charles paused to look for any reaction from Erik. His lover remained impassive, so Charles continued.

"Some important, and newly discovered, scientific artifacts from Asia were 'lost' on their way to the U.K. for study. Something about radioactive damage from the Hiroshima bombings in 1944." Charles lifted a questioning eyebrow after that one.

Erik's mouth twitched at the corners. He gave up the fight, rolled his eyes, and flopped back onto his pillow.

Charles laughed out loud and leaned over to kiss Erik on the cheek. He snuggled up against the lean, hard muscles of the German, feeling an arm snake around his back and rest on his hip.

"So was I wrong?" he asked quietly in Erik's ear, running his nose along the shell.

Erik snorted. "No, you weren't. Of course."

Erik trusted Charles that if he said he didn't use his telepathy, he didn't. Charles was nothing if not a man of his word. His respectability dripped off of him. No one who had ever met Charles, even the women he used to pick up in bars, would argue that fact.

But it didn't stop him from being exasperated at Charles' smug attitude. Even if it was all in teasing fun.

The two of them lapsed into a comfortable and sleepy silence for a few moments.

"What time is it?" Erik finally asked.

"Mmm," Charles mumbled, half asleep again. "Clock over there." He gestured toward his bureau.

Erik squinted, but couldn't see the clock face in the dark. Rippling out from his body, his magnetic power swooped toward the little clock, picking it up effortlessly and delivering it directly into Erik's waiting hand.

"Nice," said Charles.

Erik just grunted. "Five-thirty," he informed his armful of man.

"Still time to sleep," Charles decided.

Erik looked down at the warm body next to him.

"Or not," he said in a low, husky voice.

Charles smiled against Erik's shoulder skin. _Yes_, he thought.


End file.
